How I Met Your Mother
by GladiatorSwag
Summary: It's not a fairytale... or is it?
1. Prologue

**I am not technically starting a new story. It's more like clearing this idea out of my head so that I can continue to write my other two. It will only be four (maybe five) chapters but I do hope you all enjoy it.**

* * *

**Prologue **

"Daddy!" A soft voice cried out.

Sydney sat up in her white carriage canopy bed with her favorite quilt, made by her grandmother, pulled up to her nose. Grey eyes the size of saucers rested on the door of her bedroom. It was cracked open slightly so that the light from the hallway could come through. She waited patiently for some sign that her cry had been heard, counting to ten in her head. Not remembering what came after the double digit, she cried out again. Her voice a little louder this time.

"Daddy!"

She began to count again. Her eyes never leaving the door. He would come. He always came when she called. She was almost to seven when she heard the sound of leather soles against the wood floors outside of her door. Her pouty lips parted into a happy smile.

Fitzgerald Grant stopped short of reaching his daughter's room. He had come running, like he always did, when he heard her cry out his name. He knew his wife would scold and then tease him once he went back downstairs. He'd practically tripped over his own feet at the sound of the little voice over the monitor they still kept next to her bed. Which is why she always called out for him at night instead of her mother.

"Daddy..." this time her call was tentative now with the knowledge that he was on the other side of the door. "I need you."

He smiled. She'd been laying it on thick since he arrived earlier that day. "Yes?" Fitz answered his daughter as he entered her room. "You should be asleep. Mommy put you to bed hours ago."

He didn't turn on the light because he knew that would only encourage her to fight sleep longer. Besides he needed to get back down stairs. He had a beautiful wife waiting for him to finish playing Santa to her Mrs. Claus. He honestly didn't know why she waited until Christmas Eve to wrap present when they spent the entire year trying to hide them from their nosy four year old.

"Come sit with me." Sydney ordered, moving her pink and white stuffed unicorn out of the way to make room for only man in her life.

Fitz raised his eyebrow at her order. She was getting just as demanding as her mother. That was probably why they bumped heads on everything lately. Being the person in between them could be difficult at times and she was only four. By the time she turned fourteen, he was going to either have a head full of grey hair or no hair at all from pulling it all out.

Getting situated on her bed covered in purple flowers and teal butterflies, he looked at her. "What?" He asked.

"Did Santa come yet?" She asked.

"Not yet. It isn't time." Fitz replied with a secretive smile. He would miss the innocent excitement in her eyes when she became too old to believe in such things as the tooth fairy and Santa Claus. "Your mom told you that he wouldn't come if you're still awake." He reminded her.

Sydney laid her head on his arm, her hand tugging at her right ear as she looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. In a mischievous tone she whispered, "I promise I won't tell mommy and Santa if you don't." She took her hand away from her ear, zipping her lips and then throwing away the key to emphasize her point.

Fitz laughed loudly, the deep baritone sound echoed off of the walls and through room. "You're a little sneak just like your mother. You wouldn't really want me to tell a fib to Santa and mommy, would you?" She shook her head, her eyes started to water. "No tears. How about I read you a story to help you sleep."

Sydney looked at her father thoughtfully. "Okay Daddy." She said with a small shrug of her shoulders. She knew better than to push her luck with trying to get him to let her stay up and wait for Santa. Her mother would never go for it.

Fitz hopped off of the bed and went to her small white bookshelf painted with butterflies and flowers. "Which one?" He ran his fingers along the spine of the books, waiting for her to pick one. There were an endless supply of fairytales on the shelf.

What was a Princess without a fairytale? Sydney was a princess in her own right. She was royalty thanks to the title that came along with his job. Thanks to who both of her parents were.

Sydney scrunched up her face, tapping her finger against her round cheek. She was thinking harder than necessary and driving her father insane with her silence.

"Sydney, pick one." He urged. "Or I'm calling your mom up here."

"No book." She shook her head.

"No book? If that's how you want it..." He took a step towards the open door. "Good night."

"Fine." Sydney folded her arms across her chest. "I want you to tell me a story. You tell good stories, daddy."

Fitz sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. He wanted to tell her no. He should have but it was Christmas Eve and he'd been gone all week. He missed five straight nights of bedtime stories so one wouldn't kill him. "What story do you want to hear?" he asked walking back over to her bed and sitting down next to her.

"Tell me about how you met my mommy." She loved hearing her father describe how he fell for her mother. Whenever he told her the story, his blue eyes would shine with pure happiness. "Tell me about the magic. Tell me about the President and the fixer." She said in a dreamy voice.

"You spend too much time with Uncle James." Fitz joked as he ticked her sides. He loved her high pitched laughter. After she'd settled down he, looked at her in amazement. She was the perfect miniature copy of his wife but she inheritated his hair color and his mother's piercing grey eyes. "Okay but you have to promise to go to sleep."

"Cross my heart." Sydney used her tiny index figure to draw an "X" across her heart.

"Get under the covers." He helped her get situated, placing her unicorn next her pillow. "Where should I start? You probably know this story better than I do by now."

There was no place like the beginning...


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Once Upon A Time..._

The howling wind blew loudly and heavily, cooling the warm evening effectively. The air smelled like rain. The summer sun that had once been blazing down on those foolish enough to be outside in the middle of June, was now hidden behind forming dark thunderstorm clouds. There was a storm coming, threatening to contain Fitz to his Georgetown townhouse for the weekend. He smiled at the thought of spending the weekend in the warmth of his bed. His smile grew as he felt around for the small black velvet box in the pocket of his suit jacket.

It would be a weekend of celebrating for more than one reason. He'd gotten the call. It was something that had been whispered about in political blogs for weeks. He paid no attention to the gossip and tried to pretend that he wasn't on pins and needles waiting for the call. It finally came and the first person that he wanted to tell was on the other side of the door. He'd asked for the weekend to think it over but he already knew he would accept. When a call like that came, the call of a lifetime, one had no choice but to accept whatever offer was on the other end.

There was just one thing he needed to do first. One thing that would make his life complete. One word that would be the icing on the cake for him. He pulled the box out of his pocket and took a quick pick inside. A four carat, princess cut diamond engagement ring sparkled under the glow of the motion lights. It wasn't his grandmother's ring like he wished it was. His mother kept that under lock and key. She wasn't giving it up until she approved and she'd made it clear that she didn't approve of his choice.

Not wanting to think about the argument he'd had with his mother earlier that day, Fitz slid the box back into his pocket and pulled out his house keys. It didn't surprise him to find his home quiet when he entered it despite the silver BMW parked in the driveway. Natalie, his girlfriend of nearly a year, was an up and coming photographer. He knew she would either be in the dark room he'd had installed for her in the basement or upstairs in their bedroom.

An eerie feeling settled over him as he moved from the front door to the stairs. The fifteen steps that led to the top level of the house felt like a hundred. His chest grew tighter the closer he got to the top step. Stopping halfway, he reached to pull his phone out of his pocket and dialed the second person on his speed dial list.

"_At the subscriber's requests, this phone does not accept incoming calls."_

Fitz frowned and checked the screen to make sure he'd dialed the correct number. "Dial Nat's cell." He instructed his smart phone as he took the remaining steps two at a time.

He heard,"d_ialing Nat's cell,"_ followed by, "a_t the subscriber's requests, this phone does not accept incoming calls."_

"Dial Nat's cell." He instructed the phone again once he reached the closed bedroom door.

"_At the subscriber's requests, this phone does not accept incoming calls."_

He pushed open the door, readying himself for what he might find. All the mental pep talks in the world would not prepared him for what he saw as the door slowly creaked open. Hangers were thrown about the room, on the bed and the floor. The bottles of perfumes and lotions that had once littered the dresser were gone. Empty drawers hung open as if she'd packed in a hurry. She hadn't known that he would be home early. When he spoke to her during his lunch break, she gave no signs that she was going to leave him. He allowed his feet to take small steps into the bedroom. Memories of them in there came to him in a flash. Her scent still lingered on the sheets and in the air.

He reached the bed where a small white envelope sat on her side of the bed. His name was written on the front on his in her messy handwriting. When they first met at a charity auction, he'd teased her that she wrote worse than a doctor. Hating that he could still think about her and smile, he tore the envelope open and pulled out the folded lavender paper.

_Fitzgerald,_

_I feel like I don't know who you are anymore. I don't myself anymore. Things aren't good and they haven't been for awhile. Pls don't try to look for me. I've met someone and he makes me happy. I hope you meet that special someone one day. I'm sorry that I couldn't be her for you. You are a wonderful man and an even better politician. Good luck in the upcoming election. You will always have my vote._

_Sincerely,_

_Natalie_

_P.S. I didn't feel right taking the car. The keys are where they always are._

The formal tone she used to open and close the letter made him want to break something. Fitzgerald and Natalie? Who in the hell were they? They'd been Fitz and Nat since the second time they stayed up on the phone all night like a couple of teenagers. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that she'd met someone.

Was she sleeping with someone else while she laid in his bed every night?

The part that cut the deepest was that she said he would always have her vote as if that was all he cared about. He didn't give two fucks about her vote. He was heading to the top. He was about to take a major leap to make all of his dreams come true and he thought she would be the person standing by his side when he did. Reaching over for a framed picture of them that sat on the nightstand, he hurled it at the nearest and then sent everything else crashing to the floor.

He went about the room destroying anything that reminded him of her until he was on his kneeling on a pile of broken glass. There was no one he could call without risking his business ending up in some trashy magazine. That was the drawback of being a United States Senator and the son of a Governor. It made his circle of trust smaller than normal. He wouldn't call his parents and listen to them say, _"I told you so" _over and over again.

Looking around the room, he knew he needed to get out of there. Somewhere in the mist of his own destruction, he'd gained some clarity. He had nothing left to lose but everything to gain. He stood, careful not to cut himself on the glass, and picked up his phone off of the bed. He scrolled through his call log until he found the number he was searching for.

"I didn't think I would be hearing from you so soon. Did Nat turn you down?" Fitz closed his eyes. The lighthearted joke nearly crushed what was left of his heart. "Fitz? You there?"

"How soon do you need my answer?" His voice was unrecognizable even to him. "I can be on a plane tonight and start campaigning tomorrow."

"Are you okay?" He could hear the concern for him in his old friend's voice.

"How soon?" He asked, avoiding the question.

"Fitz, where's Nat?"

"Gone." That was all he could manage. "How soon, Cyrus?"

Cyrus sighed in defeat. "I'll book you a flight for tonight. Just get to the airport and keep your head down. You sound like you're in bad shape and we don't need anymore bad press."

Fitz could always count on Cyrus to be business first and personal never. "Call me with the details. And Cy?" He waited for the older man to acknowledge him. "Don't say her name around me ever again."

* * *

A row of four empty shot glasses on the bar in front of Fitz. Cyrus had come through and gotten him on the first flight out of DC to New York. On the drive to the airport, the sky finally opened up and hadn't closed back since, causing his flight to get delayed. So now he sat at an airport bar, drinking his feelings.

"I was going to marry her. I got them to agree to a job offer, getting her the exposure she wanted and she _fucking_ left me." He slurred his words and leaned far enough to the side to almost fall off of the stool. "Another one Isaac." He slammed his fifth shot glass down, humming the theme song to The Love Boat.

"His name isn't Isaac." A woman, sitting at the other end of the bar, said to him. "I also don't think he's old enough to get the joke which is why he hasn't answered the last two times you've called him that."

Fitz frowned at the woman in his drunken state. "Well aren't you a know it all. What else do you know?"

She lowered the book she'd been reading. "I know that your girlfriend, Natalie I believe is her name, left you tonight. The night you were going to propose. I think everyone here knows it." The bartender huffed in agreement. "I know you're running away from your problems. I can tell you that if you run now, you'll always be running."

"Yeah? How do you know that?" He asked cruelly. He knew it had to be the alcohol because he would have never been so cruel to such a beautiful woman. Even in his drunken state he could appreciate her rare beauty. She was all plump lips, wide eyes, and high cheekbones but the features blended together nicely on her.

"I know because I've spent seven years running." Her phone vibrated against the bar. "If you choose to drink yourself into oblivion, that's your choice. Just try to be a little quieter about it." She answered her vibrating phone without giving him the chance to respond.

"Another?" The bartender asked with an arrogant smile on his face.

"I'll take some coffee."

"Starbucks is located in terminal-"

"Can I just have some water?" Fitz asked annoyed. He felt the woman's eyes on him and turned to meet her gaze. "What?" He said when he noticed how strangely she was looking at him.

"_Does he have brown curly hair and the potential to be drunk off his ass?" _She sighed heavily. _"I've found him. You want me to do what?" _Her voice rose high enough to squeak. _"I am not carrying a complete stranger to a hotel. No... put him on the phone..."_

"Here's your water." The bartender said, sitting a bottle in front of him along with two Tylenol pills. "That should help with the headache you're going to have in the morning."

"Thanks." Fitz popped the pills into his mouth and quickly chased them with water. He tried to think of a time that Natalie had expressed unhappiness. They'd argued more lately than they ever had, but he couldn't remember her being unhappy.

"Are you insane?"

Fitz jumped, causing his head to spin. "Do I know you?" He asked the woman from the other end of the bar that was now standing next to him.

"Are. You. Insane?" She hissed. "Getting drunk in an airport bar days before you are to join a presidential campaign. What if the press was to catch wind of this? A Senator completely _wasted_ in an airport? This is a disaster._" _

Fitz frowned, trying to focus on her words but he was seeing two of her. "Miss, do I know you?" He asked slowly, looking to the bartender for help but he only shrugged his shoulders.

"You need to come with me. Now."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Who are you?"

"Olivia..." Her eyes drifted to the television screen.

Fitz's eyes followed hers. The news was running coverage of a New York City campaign rally. Republican candidate, James Pope, stood behind a podium, looking like a polished politician. He was making history by being an African American nominee for the Republican Party. By Monday, the entire world would know that he chose California Senator, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, as his running mate.

"You're her, aren't you? You're Olivia Pope. The _fixer_ that everyone whispers about." He swallowed, noting how dry his mouth was. "You're the daughter Cyrus had to call in."

"And you're the flyboy Senator about to ruin my father's campaign." She shook her head. "Come with me. Cyrus is putting us in a hotel until the weather clears up."

Fitz didn't have anything left in him to argue with her. He slid off of the stool, wobbling a little. She helped to steady him, giving him the death stare. It was going to be a tough five months if they had to work together.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Fitz stepped out of his Texas hotel room like a man on a mission. He was tired of being cramped in his room, listening to the just about every Texas media outlet crucify the Pope-Grant campaign. Majority of the Texas Republicans seemed more than a little upset that an African American, on his second marriage, had not only secured the Republican nomination, but his running mate was also an unmarried male in his early forties. According to the Texas Governor, they were everything wrong with America and they did not like the new direction their party was going in. He'd grown sick of listening to them ramble continuous nonsense after only a couple of hours.

He was going to go find Cyrus. There had to be something they could do to make the American people see pass the superficial aspects of their campaign and focus on their platform. Wasn't _that_ the reason Cyrus called in Olivia Pope? Well that and of course because the media was questioning why she'd been absent from her father's campaign for so long when she'd been spotted numerous times in New York, "fixing" things. Fitz wasn't quite sure of her purpose on the campaign though. She'd been there for three weeks, like him, and so far all he'd seen her do was order around everyone in sight and shoot him dirty looks whenever they were in the same room.

He stopped in front of the white door three doors down from his own. He could hear muffled voices on the other side so he leaned closer to the door to see if he could place the voices. He could not figure out the voices or anything that was being said because they appeared to be whispering, but at least he knew Cyrus was still awake. He was positive that the man never slept. Lifting his right hand, he knocked twice.

"Fitz? What are you doing here?" Cyrus asked, only opening the door enough to stick his head out. "It's late."

"I need to speak with you." Fitz uncomfortably shifted from foot to foot. "Do you want to talk out in the hallway or can I come inside?"

Cyrus lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck. "Can it wait until in the morning? You can come by before we leave for the air-"

"Cyrus, this cannot wait." Fitz didn't understand why Cyrus was acting so weird. It wasn't like he had a woman in his room…or the young reporter he'd seen him whispering in the corner with earlier that day. Cyrus made it a strict rule that no one was allowed to date on the campaign trail. He said that the last thing they needed was a scandal of any kind.

Cyrus looked more uncomfortable than Fitz felt. He looked like he wished he was anywhere in the world but there. With a loud sigh, he opened the door wider and motioned for Fitz to step inside. Fitz took one step forward and stopped when his blue eyes locked on a pair of cold brown eyes. Now he knew why Cyrus was acting strange.

_She_ was there.

If looks could kill, Fitzgerald Grant would have dropped dead in the doorway. Olivia stood in front of the flat screen television with the remote control in one hand and her tablet in the other, staring at him in disgust like he was a permanent annoyance in her life. It would have made a lesser person cringe and hope that the floor would just open up and swallow them whole, but it didn't bother Fitz. He smiled at her, giving her his full Grant charm, because he knew it would bug her more than anything else.

"_Senator Grant._" She said with a roll of her eyes.

He hated when she referred to him as "Senator Grant." He hated the venom his could hear in her voice whenever she said it. She addressed everyone else on the campaign by their first name except for him. He was starting to take it personal.

"What are are you doing here?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

He hated that his eyes involuntarily traveled to her chest. The grey jacket she'd had on when he last saw her was discarded on bed, leaving her in a fitted, white "Pope For President" t-shirt. It bothered him that he could not stand the ground that she so gracefully walked on, but he could not stop noticing how pretty she was or what a nice shape her body had whether she was in jeans or a black power suit. He'd thought she was beautiful the first time he'd laid eyes on her and he would still think she was if she wasn't always scowling at him whenever he saw her.

"I came to speak with Cyrus, Ms. Pope." He looked away from her to Cyrus who was still standing near the door. "Does _she_ have to be here?"

"_She_ is standing right here." Olivia said, sounding offended. "And _you_ are interrupting a very important meeting."

"Oh really? What type of meeting? A secret clubhouse meeting?" Fitz asked, matching her scowl with one of his own. "Are you trying to get Cyrus to join your coven?"

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It's a meeting that does not concern you or your antics, _Senator Grant_. You can come back later." It was an unfriendly suggestion.

"My antics?" Fitz was confused. "What antics are you referring to?"

"Should I make you a list?"

"Children! Go to your corners!" Cyrus rushed to stand in between them. He gave them both warning looks. "Sit. Down." He pointed Olivia to sit at the bed and for Fitz to take the desk chair. "You two need to find a way to work together. You're going to be on your own for the next three campaign events."

"I have to campaign with her?" Fitz's words came out a little harsher than he'd meant for them to, but he wasn't happy to hear about this sudden change.

"I thought I was joining my father for the next week and a half?" She asked interrupting Cyrus. "That's what the schedule says."

"We think it would be best if you join Fitz in California and then you both can meet up with us in Florida for the RNC."

"We?" She asked and Fitz could feel the awkward tension in the room getting thicker. He was starting to think that maybe he should have left.

"Jimmy and I were strategizing-"

"You don't have to explain." She said, cutting him off and closing the case on her tablet. She stood, sidestepping the comforting hand that Cyrus tried to offer her. "Email me the new schedule so I can send it out. I'll see you tomorrow."

Fitz felt as if he'd just missed something important. Did she hate him so much that she could not fathom the thought being stuck with him for four days? It wasn't like he was any happier about the new arrangement either. She wasn't a picnic in the park. He would rather take anyone else than her with him on his first trip home in nearly a year. Especially when he had to deal with his parents for the first time since Natalie left.

"Why do I have to campaign with her? I have to put up with Big Jerry for four days and now her. Come on, Cyrus! I thought the purpose of you bringing her on was to present the picture perfect family unless they don't want her around either." Fitz leaned back in his chair. "What's her problem anyway?"

"She doesn't have a problem." Cyrus didn't look up from his laptop as he spoke. "She's great. A pistol, lives for her work, political nun, the best student I've ever had. Her only problem seems to be you."

Fitz looked at Cyrus like he had two heads. "You said that I was the best student that you ever had."

"And you were until she came long." Cyrus closed down his computer and then looked at Fitz. "You don't like Liv because she can see pass your Pretty Boy Charm. You are use to women throwing themselves at you because your last name is Grant but she won't fall at your feet just because you smile at her. She's a puzzle that you will never figure out. She can, and she will, run circles around you. I won't always be there to stop her." Cyrus patted him on the shoulder. "Consider that a warning."

* * *

Fitz looked down at the two white and green coffee mugs in his hand and took a deep breath before making his way across the crowded airport to where Olivia sat. Cyrus had made him promise to not fight with her during their time in California. He'd promised to not fight with her as much as they had been for the last three weeks, but he couldn't say that they wouldn't fight at all. She had a way of getting under his skin and he knew for a fact that he got under hers.

He came to a stop directly in front of her, clearing his throat to gain her attention. "I was getting coffee so I got one for you too." He extended hand holding her cup to her.

"Thank you." She said without a smile, taking the cup from him and sitting down at her feet.

"Aren't you going to drink it? It's not like I poisoned it."

She looked him up and down, narrowing her eyes, and then went back to whatever she was reading on her phone. "I don't drink coffee."

"I've seen you drink coffee!" He was sure she was refusing his nice gesture to get on his nerves.

"Lower your voice." She warned him. "And you've seen me drink tea. I don't like the smell of coffee."

Fitz took the warning at sat down next to her since the other seats in the terminal had filled up. He sat in awkward silence while she continued to type away on her phone like he wasn't there. They were not going to survive the next four days if they didn't talk to each other.

"Your dad said that you've known Katherine since you were a little girl." He thought talking about her stepmother would be the best way to break the silence. Judging by the look she gave him, he was wrong.

"She volunteered on his very first Senate campaign. She was fresh out of college. That's how they met"

"But I thought they met-"

"I'm good at my job, Senator Grant. You, and everyone else, think exactly what I want you to think." She locked the screen on her phone and dropped it in her lap. "He always found a reason for her to be around. I can remember her babysitting me so that my parents could attend events in DC or so they could go out to dinner. Then when I was fifteen, my mom says she can't take being made a fool of any longer so she takes me and leaves. Jameson was born five months later."

"Where is your mom now?"

"She's in Spain with her husband. I saw them before I flew to DC."

"How does she feel about you being here? I mean with you helping with the campaign."

She sighed and then cracked a half smile. "She encouraged me to after Cyrus called her. She thinks this will be good for me, good for the both of us."

"Big Jerry, my father, has been sleeping with his secretary since I was ten or maybe even longer than that." He drank some of his coffee. "They have a signal for when she calls the house. The phone rings twice and then she hangs up and calls back, letting the phone ring two more times. I wish my mother was a strong as yours but she'll never leave him."

"She loves him the same you do. It's why you campaign for him. It's why I left Paris to be here. We love them and we believe in them despite all they've done to make us not want to." She picked up her phone again and then looked at him. "Talking about our adulterous fathers does not make us friends."

"I wouldn't expect for it too. You still owe me for the coffee you're letting go to waste." He pointed at the cup still sitting next to her foot. "You can repay me by having dinner with me tonight at my parents' ranch."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you want to."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Initially, dinner with his parents was not as bad as Fitz thought it would be. Inviting Olivia had taken the focus solely off of him if even for a short amount of time. It also gave him the opportunity to see her in a different light. Gone was the woman that had been cold to him since the night he met her. She smiled and laughed more than he had ever seen her do. She talked fall's fashion trends and traveling with his mother and held her ground when his father turned the topic of conversation to politics. His parents were so captivated by her that neither one of them brought up the subject of Natalie.

"Tell me something, Olivia." The way Big Jerry said her name put Fitz on high alert. He could feel the energy in the dining room change even before his father got to his question. "Why are you here, campaigning with my son, and not with your family?"

Fitz's fork slipped out of his hand. "She's our guest, dad. Don't be rude." He offered Olivia an apologetic look from across the table but her eyes were closed. Leave it to his father to ruin a pleasant evening by simply opening his mouth.

"Hush up, Fitzgerald." Big Jerry commanded. "I'm just asking the girl a simple question. What's the harm in that?"

"She's obviously here for a reason that you do not need to know about, Jerry. Drop it." Mrs. Grant locked eyes with her husband and then turned to Olivia. "I'm sorry, dear."

"It is quite alright, Mrs. Grant." Olivia took her white cloth napkin and dabbed the corners of her mouth before giving Mrs. Grant a warm smile that made Fitz's heart flutter. "To answer the question, I am here to make sure this week runs as smoothly as possible for everyone involved. My father has Cyrus to make sure every event goes off without a hitch so that leaves Senator Grant stuck with me. I also have my own campaign stops to make."

"No offense, Ms. Pope, but your reputation precedes you. Your name isn't one that people in my line of work like to admit that they know, or need to know, so why would my son need a _'fixer'_ to accompany him to events and interviews? Is this about the painter?"

Fitz sighed loudly. "She is a photographer." He said, not giving Olivia a chance to answer Big Jerry's question.

"I don't care what her little hobby is. She was not meant to be a Senator's wife or a possible First Lady! You need someone who knows how to survive in this world, someone who was born into it, if you going to be more than a running mate one day. She was not the right fit for you."

"Would my assistant be better? Or that only good enough if Governor is as high you can aim?" Fitz threw his napkin on the table and stood up, nearly knocking over his chair. "Thank you for dinner, mom, but I think it is time for us to leave."

"So soon? At least stay for dessert, Fitz. You haven't been home in so long." Mrs. Grant placed one hand on her son's arm and then other on top of Olivia's hand, looking from him to her and then back again. "Please?"

"You know that I can't." He said only loud enough for her to hear. "We have to get up early for interview prep in the morning." Fitz hated lying to his mother but he couldn't take the pain written on her face.

"Let him go. All he does is run when he doesn't like what's being said to him." Big Jerry said, standing up from the table as well. He placed his hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Olivia, it was an honor to pick your brain. I hope that I am never in need of your services."

Fitz snorted but didn't look at his father as he left the room. He could feel Olivia's piercing gaze on him, but he wouldn't turn look at her. He was too embarrassed for the way that he and his father had behaved in front of her.

"I guess that I will walk you two out." Mrs. Grant said as she pushed her chair away from the table at the same time that Olivia did.

Fitz walked silently behind Olivia and his mother as they made plans to have lunch the next afternoon while he would be stuck shaking hands and kissing babies with his father. He could not remember his mother ever wanting to have lunch with Natalie when they visited. He certainly could not remember her being so friendly to any other woman he'd bought home. Maybe since he wasn't dating Olivia, his mother didn't feel the need to pick her apart.

"Mrs. Grant, thank you for dinner. Everything was wonderful." He watched them embraced and his heart fluttered again just like it had when Olivia smiled at him earlier.

"You're welcome here anytime. Hopefully, my husband and my son did not scare you off." Fitz bowed his head when his mother glanced up at him. "Do remember to tell your mother that I said hello. It has been so long since I've seen her. She probably doesn't remember me."

"I am sure she does. The Grant name is hard to forget."

"So is the Pope name." Mrs. Grant looked between the two oblivious young people who seemed to be trying too hard to look anywhere but at each other all night. "A Pope-Grant union. Never in a thousand years would I have imagined it."

Fitz laughed. "It's a new world."

"That it is." Mrs. Grant responded, reaching up to pat her only child's cheek. "You know he loves. He just has a different way of showing it."

Fitz allowed himself to be pulled into his mother's arms one last time before he and Olivia stepped out into the warm Santa Barbara night. The two Secret Service agents that had been assigned to Olivia, jumped out of the waiting black unmarked SUV that would take them back to their hotel. He heard Olivia groan next to him and knew that she was still upset about her new security detail. The threat of violence against the Pope family was not something anyone was willing to take lightly. She didn't know it yet, but he had called in a favor to get two more agents put on her. She could yell at him all she wanted to. He was getting use to it.

"We need to talk about what happened tonight." She said once they were settled inside of the vehicle. "Is this going to be a problem for you?"

"I am sorry that you had to witness that, but I know how to handle my father. There won't be a _problem_ as you put it. Thank you for your concern." Fitz's last words dripped with sarcasm.

He didn't want to think about what happened at dinner or how he'd let his father get under his skin. He definitely wasn't discussing it with her when he felt her wall go back up the second they reached the front door. He knew how to fake it for the cameras. He'd been doing it most of his life.

"I am not talking about your father. Is Natalie going to be a problem for you?" Her tone told him that the purpose of her question was strictly business and nothing else. They would not be having a brief bonding moment over his broken heart like they'd had in the airport.

"What makes you think that you have the right to ask me about her?" He asked through clenched teeth. Did she not get that he didn't want to talk about Natalie? Not with her, his father, or anyone else.

"See! There it is." Her hand motioned at his rigid posture. "That is what I am worried about."

He counted to ten in his head and then asked, "what are you talking about?"

"Whenever someone mentions her, you get visibly upset. It is in your body language and written on your face. You dated her for a year and shared a townhouse in Georgetown with her. Not to mention that you were not exactly private, or subtle, with your affection towards her and then poof..."

"Poof?"

"…She is gone shortly after photos of your shopping for engagement rings surfaced all over the internet. The Washington Post had her baby bump watch. People want to know what happened."

Fitz felt himself getting upset again. "My relationship is none of their business." He knew that wasn't true but it should have been. He'd lived his entire life in front of cameras with everyone watching his every move. Just once he wanted to do something, like get over his break up, without having to explain it anyone.

"It became their business the day that you attached your name to a presidential campaign. You can either get angry in front of cameras when asked about your relationship status, because you will be asked, or you let me help you control the narrative. The choice is yours to make but you need to think about more than yourself."

They rode the rest of the way to their hotel in silence. Fitz thought about what she'd said about controlling the narrative as he took the elevator up to his room. He'd been dodging questions about Natalie since he joined the campaign. He knew they would keep coming until they media went searching for answers elsewhere. He shuttered at the thought of what his father would say if asked about his break-up.

He hated to admit it but Olivia was right.

Instead of getting off on the seventh floor where his room was located, he took the elevator back down the second floor where Olivia, and her agents, had gotten off. She was having a final meeting with the campaign staffers and volunteers that had joined them in Santa Barbara. She'd given them day and most of the night off to rest and relax before a hectic week of campaigning started. Judging by the email he'd been included on, playtime was over.

He walked into the small conference room and all conversation ceased. All eyes were on him but he scanned the room until he landed on the brown eyes he'd been searching for. Placing his hands in his front pockets, he tried to appear as normal as possible as he strolled over to her.

She smiled but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared. "You were not required to join us, Senator Grant."

He knew that was translation for "I don't want you here." He had to give her credit though. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that her smile, as brief as it was, had been genuine.

"I will do one sit down interview about Natalie at the end of the week. No more than an hour long. I don't care who it is with as long as they know that I will not use the hour to discuss _only _my failed relationship nor will I paint her in a negative light."

Olivia nodded. "You should think about a list of questions that are acceptable and unacceptable in order to not be blindsided. I can have someone work with you on it in between events-"

"No, I want you to handle this." He wouldn't admit that he didn't trust anyone but her to handle the interview and everything that went along with it. "I want you to treat me like I am one of your clients."

"You don't know what you're asking for." There was a warning in her words

. He chose to see it as a challenge.

"I am more than aware of what I am getting myself into, Ms. Pope."

"If I do this, you have to be ready to give your all. No more using the campaign as a distraction or a way to escape. I will eat, breathe, and live Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the third every single minute of every day for the rest of this campaign. When I am done, there will be no doubt in anyone's mind that you will be the Republican Party's 'Golden Boy' in another four to eight years."

Their eyes locked, his blue to her brown, and something passed between. She believed in him. He could see it in her eyes. It wasn't for show or because she wanted her father to win. She believed in him like no one else had ever believed in him before. He wanted to take her in his arms and hug her, thank her for believing in him, but something held him back. And it wasn't just because of the throats clearing to remind them that they were not the only two people in the room.

They'd gotten off on the wrong foot. He needed to make it right. They needed to start over.

Fitz stuck his hand out to her. "Fitzgerald Grant."

She smiled as she extended her own hand. "Olivia Pope." Her smile remained even after their handshake ended.

* * *

Cameras flashed brightly as excited children ran around the gymnasium of a local elementary school where Fitz and Olivia hosting a campaign event. Big Jerry was suppose to join them in helping pass out ice cream the children while they talked about why the funding for fine arts programs were so important to the Pope-Grant campaign, but the Governor had canceled at the last minute. It didn't faze Fitz. It gave him the opportunity to shine without being in his father's shadow.

Fitz had scooped so much ice cream into cones that his shoulder was starting to hurt. He flexed his arm and then rubbed his aching shoulder as teachers started to line up the next group of eager children in front of him. He took the time to search Olivia in the crowded gym. The last time he had her in his line of sight; she was conducting interviews and learning a dance that some of the older children were teaching her.

It was amazing how things could change in five short days. Five days ago, he was sure she rode around at night on a broom and lived to hate him. He wouldn't say that they were friends now, or that she no longer hated him, but the animosity was slowly dying down. She wasn't as cold to him as she had been and he was actually enjoying her company. Even Cyrus sounded proud of them the last time he'd spoken to him.

"This is last group." Olivia said as she suddenly appeared by his side. "We should have enough time to go back to the hotel and rest until tonight's event."

"I don't think I can feel my shoulder." Fitz said and then smiled as a photographer snapped a picture of them.

He couldn't help but think about Natalie whenever he saw a photographer. In one more day, he would sit down with a reporter of Olivia's choosing and tell the world how he came home to find all of her things gone. It had been Olivia's idea to stick with truth whereas he didn't see the need to go into details. She didn't want anything being left up to interruption. They'd argued for hours about it until he finally gave in. If Natalie ever chose to come out from wherever she was and do an interview that was anything but the truth, they would be prepared.

"Need a hand?" She asked, already pulling gloves on of the box. "I have two."

They both laughed at her lame attempt at a joke as cameras continued to flash around them. They formed a two person assembly line. Fitz passed her the cones and she scooped the ice cream, giving his shoulder a much needed break.

"I think Senator Grant has earned an ice cream cone, don't you?" Olivia asked the children once they were seated Indian style on the polished wood floor in front of them, eating their ice cream.

"Yes!" They screamed in unison.

Fitz felt his face heat up when she presented him with a single scoop ice cream cone. He tried to take it from her, but she pulled her hand back when he got too close to taking it, causing the gym to explode in laughter. She taunted him, waving the cone in his face and then pulling it back again, until he playfully grabbed her wrist and took lick of the melting treat while she still held onto the cone. Majority of the ice cream ended up on his chin. Before he could reach up to wipe it off, Olivia's thumb was on his chin, rubbing in slowly circles.

The room went quiet except the sound of every camera in the room capturing the moment.


End file.
